Stone of Suffering
by LEYTON-NALEY
Summary: Felicity shows Oliver what friends are for.


"Damn it," Felicity muttered, falling to the ground after another hit from Diggle.

Just as quickly as she was down, she was right back on her feet. Diggle seemed impressed by her recovery time, though he knew he hadn't inflicted any real pain upon her. He was always easy on her when they would train. If anything, he was going to have to start easing off. She was growing accustomed to his moves and dodging them, for the most part.

They always practiced on days when Oliver wasn't around. Felicity didn't give it much thought. She always figured it was just a matter of space. If they were training, it meant Oliver would have to stand off to the sides. Either way, she was thankful they waited until he left or before he got there. She couldn't imagine doing this stuff in front of him. It was embarrassing enough in front of Diggle.

If she were being honest, she was actually improving. There were techniques she had learned that she wouldn't have even imagined doing. Also, she was working out at home. At this point, she was able to get through a whole training session with Diggle without vomiting. The importance of that achievement was something to be proud of.

Diggle threw another jab her way, Felicity blocking it and managing to get a good hit to the chest on Diggle. Diggle staggered back, an impressed smile on his face.

"That was great," he complemented, slapping hands with her.

"Thank you," she smiled. "You taught me that one."

"I bet you can't do it again," he challenged, watching the eager glint in her eyes at his words.

He came at her, throwing his right hand in the direction of her torso. Felicity ducked, kicking her leg forward. Diggle jumped up just in time, giving Felicity the opportunity to stand back up. At that moment, Oliver came in with his jacket draped over his arm and Roy by his side. They paused mid-conversation at the sight in front of them. Oliver opened his mouth to say something, then quickly shut it.

"Hey, Oliver," Felicity greeted, still in fighting stance.

"Oliver, we were just finishing up here," Diggle said, assuming Oliver needed them to get back to work now that he was there.

"Wait," Felicity responded, a questioning look on her face. "I really want to try that move again. Watch, Oliver."

Diggle waited for Oliver to give him the OK. Oliver nodded his head, unable to deny Felicity the opportunity to show him what she had learned. Diggle got into place, waiting for Felicity to make the first move. She did, swinging a fist towards his right shoulder. Diggle stepped to the side, tossing a jab her way. He had no idea that that was exactly what she wanted him to do. She grabbed his arm, twisting her body so that she was standing behind him now. She tugged his arm backwards, easily knocking him down.

"Nice," Diggle grunted, pushing himself off the floor. "I didn't teach you _that_."

"I know," she grinned, helping him to his feet. "I saw that one on TV."

Diggle wiped his face with a sweat towel. "Wasn't that impressive, Oliver?"

"Yeah, it was," Oliver agreed, clearing his throat. "I'm sorry. I have to go. I'll be right back."

"Is everything OK?" Diggle questioned, ready to swing into action if necessary.

"No- Yes, of course. Everything is fine. I just remembered I, um, I was supposed to pick up something," he stuttered, being extremely vague.

Diggle squinted at him in a way that let Oliver know he wasn't buying a word of it. "Which is?"

"It's a file Detective Lance needs to give me," he clarified.

"Detective Lance?" Diggle repeated. "Aren't you going to suit up first?"

"No, it's fine. I mean, it's not _fine, but-_" Oliver paused, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'm picking this file up as Oliver Queen."

"Must be pretty important if it's making you ramble like Felicity," Roy chuckled, earning a glare from her.

Oliver glanced at Felicity, immediately looking away. He gave a half-amused smile, backing away a step or two. Then, he turned on his heels, rapidly exiting through the door he came in.

"That was weird," Felicity murmured, crossing over to her computers.

"We all have our moments," Diggle shrugged, choosing not to dwell on it.

"Do you think he really had a file to pick up?" Roy asked, putting his hands in his jacket pockets.

"I think Oliver has a good reason for leaving, and we shouldn't question it," Diggle answered. "He didn't take his Arrow suit, so I'm assuming he's not doing anything dangerous."

Felicity grabbed her towel, wiping down her arms and chest. Once she hauled her duffle bag onto her desktop, she dug around to find her original outfit. "Especially not in broad daylight," she added.

"I guess you're right," Roy said, watching as Felicity headed for the stairs.

"Well, let me know if you hear from him," she called over her shoulder. "I'm going to change real quick."

As the door to the basement shut, she got a sudden chill. For some reason, she felt as though she wasn't the only one on the floor; which was weird considering Verdant was closed during the day. She chose to ignore it, feeling confident with her defense skills and having Roy and Diggle downstairs.

Continuing her walk towards the bathroom, she began to hum to herself. That actually calmed her nerves until she felt silly for even thinking that there was someone else there. Then, she heard a low, deep groan come from the direction of the bathroom. She nearly jumped into the air, her clothes slipping from her grasp and falling onto the ground almost soundlessly. She didn't even bother to pick them up, instead focusing on finding out where that sound came from. Or better yet, _who_ that sound came from.

Whoever it was, they sounded like they were in pain. She probably should have gotten Diggle or Roy, but her curiosity needed to be fed; which meant no time to go get someone else. With ready ears, she listened for the sound again. She got something even better. After only a few seconds of waiting, she heard her name come from further down the hallway.

Immediately, she knew the person was inside of the men's bathroom. The door was in her line of vision, and her ears focused in on that one area. Another time, her name was being grit out from inside of the bathroom. It was faint, more of a growl this time. Still, it made her heart skip and stomach flip. She knew that voice- she would know it anywhere.

It was Oliver.

Cautiously, she made her way to the bathroom. Her steps were light, planned. Eventually, the toe of her shoe pushed against the door, opening it slightly. She peeked inside, taken aback by the sight in front of her.

Oliver. Oh God, Oliver was suddenly everywhere. Even when she closed her eyes, she saw the image of him as clear as day. Though, with what was now visible to her, she didn't want to close her eyes ever again. She felt suffocated by how much of him was now being shown to her. She had stayed up for hours at night, imagining what he would look like. She had never even come close to the real thing.

She should have left. There was no good that could come from her standing behind the shield that was Verdant's men's bathroom door, watching Oliver Queen get off. She turned to leave, tripping over her own two feet. And that was it. He had heard her.

"Felicity?"

"Crap," she muttered, shutting her eyes. "Yeah, it's me."

"Uh, what are you doing?"

He sounded nervous. Did he really think there was a chance that she hadn't just seen what she had seen? She pitied him, she really did. She was about to give the best performance of her goddamn life and pretend she had just happened to appear and was completely oblivious to the situation at hand, when she heard him begin to pick up his pants. It was very clear that he didn't get to finish, and there was no way that was going to be on her account.

"Oliver, wait," she said, pushing the door all the way open.

He stood there, jaw hanging. His pants were being held up loosely by his hands, not covering nearly enough. The thin shirt he had on was rolled high, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, so that his abs were in plain sight and the outline of his arm muscles were apparent.

"This isn't what it looks like," he began, and although she wanted to see how he would try to explain this one, she decided to just put him out of his misery.

Felicity dropped to her knees in front of him, tugging his pants free from his hands so that they gathered around his ankles. He fell back against the tiled wall with a grunt, completely caught off guard by her actions.

"What are you doing?" he asked, looking genuinely confused.

"What does it look like, Oliver?" she retorted, curling her fingers around his hardened length.

"Felicity, you don't-" He stopped talking due to her mouth covering the tip of his erection. "_Fuck, Felicity_."

If there were ever words that she wished she could hear again, it would be those two. Not only did she want those words, she wanted them to come from him and sound exactly as they just had; desperate, pained, and blissful.

As her head moved father along him, she could feel the tenseness in him begin to dissolve. He grew more comfortable to the situation, angling his hips towards her to make her job easier. When she started moving back and forth over him, she could hear the string of curses he tried to hide under his breath as if they were right in her ear. She thought of them as her own personal encouragements.

He kept moving his head away from the wall to look at her, but then she'd take him to the back of her throat or swirl her tongue around the end of him, and his head would fall back against the checkered wall once again. His teeth were clenched tightly, breath coming out in quick pants. One of his hands buried itself in her hair, making her a little thankful that she had trained with it down today.

From the position she was in, she had the perfect view of his incredible body. The muscles of his abdomen tightened in reaction to her movements. She sucked in her cheeks, finding that made his biceps flex after the clenching of his fists. She sort of expected him to take control of the situation, knowing he had been holding back. The hand that had woven into her blonde hair was only dead weight on her head, as opposed to the other one that twitched with restraint by his side.

Oliver made no notion that he intended to use either of them. Felicity couldn't focus on what he _wasn't_ doing though. All of her attention was on touching over him, under him, and anywhere surrounding this specific area of him.

After a minute, she pulled away to catch her breath, using her hand to pump him a few times. Obviously, he didn't like the poor substitute of pleasure. He shoved her hand away with his left, guiding himself back to her with his right. She greatly accepted him, continuing to suck and taste all that she could of Oliver Queen. From that point on, he had taken control, bringing her repeatedly over him in a variety of tempos.

She could tell he was getting closer to coming by the way he stopped moving her head, and started moving himself. He thrust his hips forward until all of him was being blocked from the outside world by her mouth. She had never taken him- or anyone for that matter- so deep before. She made a note to herself to buy a pint of her favorite ice cream in honor such an accomplishment.

_God, Felicity, are you really thinking about ice cream right now? s_he thought, now internally scolding herself instead of the praise she had been doing moments before.

She hadn't really had a history of giving oral to guys; she had never found it appealing. Oliver had made her want to do it without even trying. It was confusing the amount of pleasure she got from doing this to him. So was the fact that she knew he was in the palm of her hands right now. This was her opportunity to do whatever the hell she liked to him, and he couldn't protest. There was seriously no end to her confidence right now.

Though he was determined to control the situation, he didn't stop her when she moved out of his grasp. He gave her a questioning stare, pleading with her to finish what she had started with his eyes. Leaning her head forward, she placed small kisses to the creases between his abs, tongue licking over the taut skin. Her fingers dragged along his length, traveling below to gently squeeze the flesh underneath.

He sucked in a breath, and she decided to stop with the teasing. Reaching for his hands again, she put them on top of her head. They twisted into the depths of her hair, getting lost and tangled in the sea of blonde. Tugging gently, she let herself be guided back to him. She directed his length into her mouth, freezing at the midpoint to let Oliver know it was his turn to take his control back.

Starting off at a fairly slow pace, his tempo steadily increased. The longer it went on, the easier it became for her. Her cheeks hollowed around him, and his grunts were echoing through the room. The strangled way her name escaped his throat had her brain fuzzy with satisfaction. His speed began to decrease, until he was going at a slower pace than what he had started with.

Suddenly, he pulled out of her, allowing her to catch her breath. Then, he was leading her back down at that same slow pace. She took all of him once again, running her tongue along him despite the awkward angle. As he was taking himself out for the second time, she flicked her tongue over his tip. He froze, so she continued to suck on her own.

"Feli- Fuck. Felicity," he sputtered, trying but failing to lock eyes with her. "I'm- _Fuck._"

She knew exactly what he was trying to tell her. However, she had no intention of moving. Her actions became relentless, deliberate, laced with the refusal to hold back. Roughly, she shoved him all the way to the back of her throat, feeling him start to convulse inside of her.

And that was it. He came right there, her name spilling from his lips in a way that made all of this worth it. She licked away every last drop of him, internally smirking at his wobbly knees. She gave a few more bobs of her head while he recovered, eventually removing him from her mouth.

He seemed far away, body slumped back in exhaustion. She had to smile up at him, thinking that this was the most relaxed she had ever seen him. When he finally caught his breath, he stared down at her.

"You didn't have to do that."

"Was it not my fault?" she asked, assuming she had been the cause of all this.

"The sight of you kicking ass admittedly turns me on," he said, voice as deep as when he speaks as the Arrow.

"Good to know," she told him, standing up and starting off towards the door. "I'll make sure to warn you next time."

He reached for her arm, yanking her back to him. Her face was mere inches from his, and she could feel his breath on her skin. His eyes scanned over her face, darkening.

"Don't think I won't return the favor," he murmured, making her struggle to find her words.

"I wouldn't dare," she responded, eyeing his lips.

He watched her, waiting for her to lean in. Instead, her hand reached between them, taking a hold of him once again. She stroked lazily, his head falling into the crook of her neck, lips muttering curses against her skin. Bending down, she picked his pants up and pulled them over his legs. After tucking him back in and zipping everything up, she gave a small pat to his crotch.

"Next time," she whispered, walking away.

She allowed herself to finally smirk, picking up her momentarily forgotten clothes off of the floor, and heading for the women's bathroom to finally change.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, depending on the feedback I get, I might decide to do a sequel to this where Oliver pays Felicity back for her 'kindness'. Any and all thoughts are welcome. Even the simplest of reviews bring me joy. Also, I'd like to give a huge thank you to my readers that do review. It means a lot to me and gives me the inspiration to keep writing. Whether or not you decide to review, I still hope you enjoyed this. Remember, the future of part two is in your hands!**


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